Still Got It
by Sable-eyed-lily
Summary: Draco’s gotten sick, refuses to admit it, and is attempting to seduce Harry into bed. Harry has the job of keeping his husband in bed to rest. Why do I get the feeling that Harry’s plan will be going down the drain, courtesy of Draco. SLASH, FYI...
1. Chapter 1

Author: Sable-eyed-lily

Genre: Humor/Romance

Warnings: Super Fluffy. So fluffy you can bounce on it.

Summary: Draco's gotten sick, refuses to admit it, and is attempting to seduce Harry into bed. Harry has the job of keeping his husband in bed to rest. Why doI get the feelings that Harry's plan will be going down the drain, courtesy of Draco.

A/N: I got this idea after I watched an episode of FRIENDS. Some of the dialogue is from FRIENDS, but most is from moi.

Disclaimer: I don't own HP or FRIENDS.

**Still Got It**

"Draco?" Harry asked in soft voice. His arms and hands were laden with the large tray that he was balancing. "Draco? Are you awake? I brought you breakfast."

"Doe away." A miserable voice answered him. The loud sound of a nose blowing filled the room.

Harry attempted to look between the flower arrangement to see Draco, but all he could he was a heap in the middle of the sheets. He sighed. He knew he shouldn't have added the huge bouquet of roses and lilies, but he already knew that Draco would have complained if he hadn't. Harry smiled fondly.

He eventually found the bedside table, and carefully placed the tray on it. "Draco…" Harry prodded lightly at the pile of blankets. "I got Mrs. Weasley to make you some of her famous onion soup. Come on, love. Please eat some of the soup."

A muffled voice cried out. "Doe away Darry. I dan't be seen by dou." His voice was entirely congested, and it was a wonder that Harry understood at all.

"Draco, please come out from under the covers." He began to beg. "I promise I won't laugh or anything."

"I'mb neber leaving." Was the only reply he got. "I'mb not showing my bace until this horrib.. _disfiguration _leabes." A noisy sniff was quickly followed.

"You don't have a disfiguration." Harry said in exasperation. "Now eat the soup so you can get better."

"It's easy for youb to talk about marred appearances. Just look at those hibeous glasses youb wear."

Harry huffed. "I don't think that -Hey! What's wrong with my glasses?"

A soft snicker was heard. "I dink the list would be shorbter ib dou asked what wasn't wrong wid dem."

"That's it." Harry muttered. He grabbed the edge of the blankets, and gave them a hard yank. Draco was entirely exposed to the room.

"Noooooo! Gib dem back!" Draco shrieked, groping blindly for the sheets as he buried his face in the remaining pillows. "I abmit it, your glasses are rebulsive, but dou bake dem look good. Nowb give be back da covers!"

Harry continued to watch in amusement. Draco's left arm was groping around the bed while his right still held the pillow to his face. "Draco, you're going to suffocate yourself. Then what would I do?" He heard a muffled snort come from the pillow. "What?"

Draco lifted his head slightly. "The Weabel woulb probably take dou out celebrating, and den he'd likely biss on by grave, being the ple..ple.. commboner dat he ib."

Harry unsuccessfully stifled a giggle. He paused for a moment, before using his quidditch skills to quickly snatch the pillow Draco was holding like a life preserver.

"HARRY!"

Harry choked back a laugh. Draco's normally pristine hair was in wild tangles framing his face. The once lush silvery-blonde locks now had a slightly greasy shine to them. His cheeks were flushed, and his nose was redder than Rudolph's.

"I…" Harry seemed to be struggling with himself. "It doesn't look that bad-"

"-I look ubly!" Draco wailed. "My beauty will bade, and dou'll no lonber wam to habe sex wit be. And den dou'll run back to the Weabselette, and Ib'll be left behind and habe to mobe into the Manor to hide by heab in shbame."

"Shh…" Harry quickly sobered, and crawled onto the large four poster. He sat next to Draco, and immediately gave him a hug. He handed him a tissue, and let Draco blow his nose. "You're always beautiful to me." He pressed a light kiss on the pale temple.

"Even when I'm old and wrinkly?" Draco's voice was now somewhat distinguishable.

Harry smiled. "Even when you're old and wrinkly. Even if you somehow grow old and look like Filch."

"Ewwwww." Draco pushed Harry away from him. "That's sick, Potter."

The sable haired man broke into a grin. He glanced at his watch and sighed. "I'm going to have to leave for work Draco."

"You're _leabing_?"

"Kingsley says that all the aurors have to be at the ministry. Apparently there's an important meeting today. And everyone has to be there, no matter how many sick husbands they have." Draco was about to cut in, but Harry hurried on. "I'll be back home by five. Promise."

"Fibe." Draco pouted. Harry smiled indulgently. He stood up, and was about to leave when Draco called after him. "What, no biss goob-bye?" Harry walked back and gave a quick kiss on his head. "A biss on my dair? Ib by face no longer beautiful enough for you to biss?" Harry sighed, but leaned down and kissed Draco's cheek. "Whab is your problem?!"

"What?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Why wonb't you biss be on da lips?" Draco cried. "Ib's da nose ibin it? Ib's making you not want to biss my lips. Fibe, I bon't hate dou if you leabe me. I knowb I look hibeous. Just leabe be alone to die wid da hoube elbes for company." He turned away, and looked out the window.

"Draco… look at me." Harry grasped the stubborn blonde's chin, and met liquid silver eyes. "I love everything about you. I'm not going to leave. I'm not kissing your lips because I don't want to catch whatever it is you have. If I got sick, then who would take care of you?"

Draco smiled slightly. "Dank y- Ahh Ahh Ahchooooo!" Draco blinked. "Oops?" he offered.

Harry glared at him. His face was covered in saliva and other unidentifiable things that he didn't even want to think about. He reached up, and wiped his face slowly. He turned and left the bedroom.

Draco called after him. "Darrby? You'reb not mad at be, are youb? You're cobing back bor lunch, righb?" The door shut mid way through his questions. "Righb?... Fibe."

Draco caught a glance at himself in the full length mirror. He looked a mess. He raised a hand, and tentatively touched his hair. He grimaced when he felt all the oil. His nose was bright as Gryffindor red. Draco groaned, and flopped back down on the bed. He glanced down at his body. _I'm still gorgeous, aren't I? Harry's not getting bored of me…_ He moaned out loud. _It's the fever making me think these things. I'm delusional._ The sex is good. Amazing at that. _Truly spectacular… But what if it isn't enough? _

Draco leapt out of the four poster, then immediately regretted it. His head pounded, and he stumbled for a bit, until he regained his balance. He quickly striped, and look at himself in the mirror.

His physique was perfect, if he did say so himself. Lean body, perfectly toned abs, not as nice as Harry's, but they were pretty good. Draco didn't bother looking at his face. He already knew it looked awful. He turned around, and tried to twist around to see his back. "Harry most debinately isn't gebbing tired of be." He muttered.

"He probably is, and you're in denial." A snide voice said. Draco spun around, and he saw no one. "In the mirror, moron. Why must all blondes be idiots?"

Draco glared at his reflection. The reflection-Draco had a sneer on his face, and was continuing to lecture. "Maybe you don't look so bad right now, but think five years down the road. Potter won't be so willing to cuddle any longer. Receding hairline from all those hair care products." Draco's hand automatically jumped to his hair. "That's not the only thing that will go away. You're far too clingy. What'll happen then? The Daily Prophet will have a field day when Potter breaks up with you. No one likes the two of you together, anyway. After all, why would the golden boy of Gryffindor ever want to stay forever with a former Death Eater." A pointed glance was made towards Draco's left arm.

"You're wronb." Draco snarled. "Harrby lubes be. He saib all bus forgiben about da Dark Bark. He-"

The reflection-Draco cut him off. "Maybe all the Dark Magic around the Death Eaters is making you age prematurely. Things not as high, not as firm." It pointed at Draco's arse as it said this, "Soon, you're skin will be as saggy as Dumbledore's. Oh, wait, he's dead. Aren't you the one who killed him? Wasn't he Potter's mentor?" Draco grabbed the vase his mother had given him, and flung it at the mirror. It shattered into a million pieces. The mirror made one last comment. "That's seven years of bad luck. Wonder how that'll affect your marriage with Potter."

Draco growled. "I'll showb dou whob's desirable hereb." He stomped off for the bathroom.

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"Draco? I'm home. I'm sorry I'm late. Kingsley kept us there far quite a while." Harry called out. He hung up his cloak, and made his way into the living room of their flat. He began to fiddle with his watch as he walked in. "I just talked to the mediwitch, and she said that you need to stay in bed for the next few days. You would think, with us being able to use magic, we'd be able to cure the common cold."

"Hello, Harrby." A voice purred, or attempted to purr, by the doorway.

"Draco, what are you doing up? I just said you need to be resting." Harry glanced up, and his breath caught. Draco was standing in nothing but a thin, black robe. It left little to the imagination. Harry's eyes began to dilate and his trousers suddenly became quite tight. Then Draco let out a hacking cough that lasted for two minutes. Harry felt his erection wither away.

"I knowb. But Ib just gob so bored wibout dou. Dob't dou wand to do somebthing fun? Newb? Ebciting?" Draco attempted to be seductive.

"Yes. I know, let's rest and drink lots of fluids." Harry said hastily.

"Whab kind ob fluibs?" Draco leered at him. The come-hither look was somewhat ruined by the snot that was beginning to run from his nose.

Harry grimaced. "Like orange juice."

Draco pouted. This wasn't going at all the way he had planned. "Fibe, I'll rest. But ib I'mb going to bed, youb're coming wid be."

Harry seemed to be struggling with himself. "See, that would be irresistible, if you weren't all.. drippy…" Harry tapped his nose for emphasis.

Draco quickly wiped at his nose, but immediately bounced back unfazed. He placed his hands on his chest, and let them roam slowly down his body. "Are youb saying you domb wan to get wid _diss_. Comeb on…" Before Harry could protest, Draco broke into another coughing fit.

"Don't take this personally, Draco," Harry tried to wisely choose his words. "But I just can't have sex with a sick person. No matter how… delectable they may look."

"I'b righb dere wib you, Darry." The brunette sighed in relief, before Draco continued. "I wouldn't hab sex wid a sick person either. Dat's nauseating. But I'b not sick. Wan be to prove it to dou?" Draco pushed Harry back into one of the chairs, and crawled onto his lap, ignoring the fact that Harry was attempting to get away. "We'b are two healthy people, that are in the pribe of our libes."

Harry managed to escape. "See, love, I'd like to stay in the _pribe of my dife_." Draco raised his hand, formed it into a claw, and made a growling noise. "Oh, okay, now I'll do it." Harry said sarcastically.

"Fibe." Draco stalked back to the bedroom.

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose, tiredly. It was going to be a _long_ night.

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"Hairby!"

"Yes, sweetie?" Harry swiftly made his way to the bedroom. "Do you need more tissues? Some soup? Tea?" He groaned in exasperation when he walked in.

Draco was splayed on the bed with the sheets overturned. He leered at Harry, and patted the bed. "Calling mebiwizard Darry. Calling mebiwizard Hairby to da bed.

Harry moaned, and not in the way Draco wanted. "Merlin…" He mumbled in frustration, "Love, I thought you were in here sleeping."

"How coulb I layb here sleepbing? Knowbing you dwere in da next roomb, wearing dat sexy outbit."

Harry glanced down at his baggy yellow sweats and bright orange turtleneck sweater. He shrugged. "I was asleep..." Draco smiled, and undid his robe. He shivered when the cold air hit his naked body. "Oh, no, Draco, you know what's sexy? Layers. Layers are sexy." Harry reached over, and was rapidly redressing the stubborn blonde. "Blankets and sheets are also very sexy. And how could I forget how sexy hot water bottles are." Harry attempted to shove the hot water bottle into Draco's hand.

"I tolb you Hairby! I'b nob sick!" Draco exclaimed. "I wan to bake dou feel, as good as I beel. Ack-Achoo!"

"Please get some rest." Harry begged.

"I saib I'b fibe. Ack-Achoo!"

When Draco began to cough, Harry had had enough. "You're coughing Draco-"

"No I'b not, I'b laughing."

"Then you're laughter sounds like a banshee. And what are you even laughing at?"

"… Oh, somebthing I hearb earlier…"

"Tell me."

"I… I woulb, but I donb't wan to boil da mood." Draco leaned up, about to kiss him. _Oh, what the hell. One kiss from Draco won't kill me._ Harry opened his mouth, and closed his eyes. "ACHOO!" Harry gagged as he felt the saliva hit his face for the second time that day.

"That's it!" Harry shouted. "You, in the bed now. And I order you to stay there until you feel better." He stomped out of the bedroom, letting the door slam after him.

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"Hairby?"

"What did I tell you?" Harry said in exasperation, putting his book down.

"I dink I'b sick." Draco plowed on.

"Really? Struck down in the _primeb of lifeb_?"

"Fibe, I abmit it. I feel terrible." Draco handed him some lotion. "Blease put dis on be?" He asked pitifully.

"Sur- Oh, no, no, no. You are not getting me to fall for that." Harry folded his arms in front of his chest.

"But I really bead yourb help-"

"No, no, no, no, no, no."

"Fibe, I'll rub it on mydelf." Draco let his robe fall, and he stood in all his glory. Harry cleared his throat, and attempted to continue his reading. His eyes kept drifting towards the entrancing body, before snapping back to the book. "Oh." Draco moaned, rubbing the lotion slowly on his chest. He let out another breathy groan.

Harry's eye began to twitch. "So…" He had to clear his throat once more when it cracked slightly. "You're erm… Just going to rub it on yourself then?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I erm… uh… er… It's nice…"

"You'b gob to be joking. Dis is turning you onb?" Draco asked in an incredulous voice.

Yes." Harry whimpered, hanging his flaming head in shame.

"I don'b get it. Is it da rubbing or da smell?" Draco looked at the label on the bottle.

"It's all very, very good." Harry had his eyes firmly shut, and his head was turned in any direction, but Draco's. Draco sighed, and pulled his robe back on. He went over to the lounge chair and sat down. "So… uh…" Harry stammered, "You wanna go… erm… make things exciting?" His face turned crimson.

Draco shot him an disbelieving look. "Nowb? I'b sick."

"Oh, come on, you big faker. We both know you like to play up the whole being sick thing." Harry was highly considering the idea of begging. Especially when Draco spread his legs wider, and still had his robe untied.

"Whab about dyour rule onb neber habing sex wid sick people?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, well…" Harry was struggling to come up with a reply that would result in sex that night. "…That was before all the rubbing and moaning action with the lotion."

"Well…" Draco seemed to be pondering his answer. "Ib you really wantb to habe sex…"

"Okay!" Harry, not even waiting for Draco to finish his reply, ran for the bedroom.

Draco glanced at the lotion bottle. "Worked libe a dharm." He glanced down at his body. "I'b still gob it." With a triumphant smirk, Draco also headed for the bedroom.

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~A few hours later~

"I don't feel so good…"

"Thanks, Pobber. Dat's whab eb'ry man wants to bear abter he just hab sex with dyou."

"I think I may have caught something."

"Yeah, bell, you bedder not get be sick."

"……………"

"Whab, Harry?"

~Fin~

So……. What did you think?????

*If you couldn't understand Draco's dialogue clearly, click on the next Chapter. It has all the words there without the extra B's and D's.

R&R

XOXO

Sable-eyed-lily


	2. Ch1 of Still Got It revised

Author: Sable-eyed-lily

Genre: Humor/Romance

Warnings: Super fluffy. So fluffy you can bounce on it

Summary: Draco's gotten sick, refuses to admit it, and is attempting to seduce Harry into bed. Harry has the job of keeping his husband in bed to rest. Why do I get the feeling that Harry's plan will be going down the drain, courtesy of Draco.

Author's Note: I got this idea after I saw an episode of FRIENDS. Some of the dialogue is from friends, but most is from moi.

Disclaimer: I don't own HP or FRIENDS

*This is the version with words that are spelled correctly. And it looks as though Draco can speak without a speech impediment.

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Still Got It

"Draco?" Harry asked in soft voice. His arms and hands were laden with the large tray that he was balancing. "Draco? Are you awake? I brought you breakfast."

"Go away." A miserable voice answered him. That loud sound of a nose blowing filled the room.

Harry attempted to look between the flower arrangement to see Draco, but all he could he was a heap in the middle of the sheets. He sighed. He knew he shouldn't have added the huge bouquet of roses and lilies, but he already knew that Draco would have

complained if he hadn't. Harry smiled fondly.

He eventually found the bedside table, and carefully placed the tray on it. "Draco…" Harry prodded lightly at the pile of blankets. "I got Mrs. Weasley to make you some of her famous onion soup. Come on, love. Please eat some of the soup."

A muffled voice cried out. "Go away Harry. I can't be seen by you." His voice was entirely congested, and it was a wonder that Harry understood at all.

"Draco, please come out from under the covers." He began to beg. "I promise I won't laugh or anything."

"I'm never leaving." Was the only reply he got. "I'm not showing my face until this horrid.. _disfiguration _leaves." A noisy sniff was quickly followed.

"You don't have a disfiguration." Harry said in exasperation. "Now eat the soup so you can get better."

"It's easy for you to talk about marred appearances. Just look at those hideous glasses you wear."

Harry huffed. "I don't think that -Hey! What's wrong with my glasses?"

A soft snicker was heard. "I think the list would be shorter if you asked what wasn't wrong with them."

"That's it." Harry muttered. He grabbed the edge of the blankets, and gave them a hard yank. Draco was entirely exposed to the room.

"Noooooo! Give them back!" Draco shrieked, groping blindly for the sheets as he buried his face in the remaining pillows. "I admit it, your glasses are repulsive, but you make them look good. Now give me back the covers!"

Harry continued to watch in amusement. Draco's left arm was groping around the bed while his right still held the pillow to his face. "Draco, you're going to suffocate yourself. Then what would I do?" He heard a muffled snort come from the pillow. "What?"

Draco lifted his head slightly. "The Weasel would probably take you out celebrating, and then he'd likely piss on by grave, being the ple..ple.. commoner that he is."

Harry unsuccessfully stifled a giggle. He paused for a moment, before using his quidditch skills to quickly snatch the pillow Draco was holding like a life preserver.

"HARRY!"

Harry choked back a laugh. Draco's normally pristine hair was in wild tangles framing his face. The once lush silvery-blonde locks now had a slightly greasy shine to them. His cheeks were flushed, and his nose was redder than Rudolph's.

"I…" Harry seemed to be struggling with himself. "It doesn't look that bad-"

"-I look ugly!" Draco wailed. "My beauty will fade, and you'll no longer want to have sex with me. And then you'll run back to the Weaselette, and I'll be left behind and have to move into the Manor to hide by head in shame."

"Shh…" Harry quickly sobered, and crawled onto the large four poster. He sat next to Draco, and immediately gave him a hug. He handed him a tissue, and let Draco blow his nose. "You're always beautiful to me." He pressed a light kiss on the pale temple.

"Even when I'm old and wrinkly?" Draco's voice was now somewhat distinguishable.

Harry smiled. "Even when you're old and wrinkly. Even if you somehow grow old and look like Filch."

"Ewwwww." Draco pushed Harry away from him. "That's sick, Potter."

The sable haired man broke into a grin. He glanced at his watch and sighed. "I'm going to have to leave for work Draco."

"You're _leaving_?"

"Kingsley says that all the aurors have to be at the ministry. Apparently there's an important meeting today. And everyone has to be there, no matter how many sick husbands they have." Draco was about to cut in, but Harry hurried on. "I'll be back home by five. Promise."

"Fine." Draco pouted. Harry smiled indulgently. He stood up, and was about to leave when Draco called after him. "What, no kiss good-bye?" Harry walked back and gave a quick kiss on his head. "A kiss on my hair? Is my face no longer beautiful enough for you to kiss?" Harry sighed, but leaned down and kissed Draco's cheek. "What is your problem?!"

"What?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Why won't you kiss me on the lips?" Draco cried. "It's the nose isn't it? It's making you not want to kiss my lips. Fine, I won't hate you if you leave me. I know I look hideous. Just leave me alone to die with the house elves for company." He turned away, and looked out the window.

"Draco… look at me." Harry grasped the stubborn blonde's chin, and met liquid silver eyes. "I love everything about you. I'm not going to leave. I'm not kissing your lips because I don't want to catch whatever it is you have. If I got sick, then who would take care of you?"

Draco smiled slightly. "Thank y- Ahh Ahh Ahchooooo!" Draco blinked. "Oops?" he offered.

Harry glared at him. His face was covered in saliva and other unidentifiable things that he didn't even want to think about. He reached up, and wiped his face slowly. He turned and left the bedroom.

Draco called after him. "Harry? You're not mad at me, are you? You're coming back for lunch, right?" The door shut mid way through his questions. "Fine."

Draco caught a glance at himself in the full length mirror. He looked a mess. He raised a hand, and tentatively touched his hair. He grimaced when he felt all the oil. His nose was bright as Gryffindor red. Draco groaned, and flopped back down on the bed. He glanced down at his body. _I'm still gorgeous, aren't I? Harry's not getting bored of me…_ He moaned out loud. _It's the fever making me think these things. I'm delusional._ The sex is good. Amazing at that. _Truly spectacular… But what if it isn't enough? _

Draco leapt out of the four poster, then immediately regretted it. His head pounded, and he stumbled for a bit, until he regained his balance. He quickly striped, and look at himself in the mirror.

His physique was perfect, if he did say so himself. Lean body, perfectly toned abs, not as nice as Harry's, but they were pretty good. Draco didn't bother looking at his face. He already knew it looked awful. He turned around, and tried to twist around to see his back. "Harry most definitely isn't getting tired of me." He muttered.

"He probably is, and you're in denial." A snide voice said. Draco spun around, and he saw no one. "In the mirror, moron. Why must all blondes be idiots?"

Draco glared at his reflection. The reflection-Draco had a sneer on his face, and was continuing to lecture. "Maybe you don't look so bad right now, but think five years down the road. Potter won't be so willing to cuddle any longer. Receding hairline from all those hair care products." Draco's hand automatically jumped to his hair. "That's not the only thing that will go away. You're far too clingy. What'll happen then? The Daily Prophet will have a field day when Potter breaks up with you. No one likes the two of you together, anyway. After all, why would the golden boy of Gryffindor ever want to stay forever with a former Death Eater." A pointed glance was made towards Draco's left arm.

"You're wrong." Draco snarled. "Harry loves me. He said all was forgiven about the Dark Mark. He-"

The reflection-Draco cut him off. "Maybe all the Dark Magic around the Death Eaters is making you age prematurely. Things not as high, not as firm. Soon, you're skin will be as saggy as Dumbledore's. Oh, wait, he's dead. Aren't you the one who killed him? Wasn't he Potter's mentor?" Draco grabbed the vase his mother had given him, and flung it at the mirror. It shattered into a million pieces. The mirror made one last comment. "That's seven years of bad luck. Wonder how that'll affect your marriage with Potter."

Draco growled. "I'll show you who's desirable here." He stomped off for the bathroom.

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"Draco? I'm home. I'm sorry I'm late. Kingsley kept us there far quite a while." Harry called out. He hung up his cloak, and made his way into the living room of their flat. He began to fiddle with his watch as he walked in. "I just talked to the mediwitch, and she said that you need to stay in bed for the next few days."

"Hello, Harry." A voice purred, or attempted to purr, by the doorway.

"Draco, what are you doing up? I just said you need to be resting." Harry glanced up, and his breath caught. Draco was standing in nothing but a thin, black robe. It left little to the imagination. Harry's eyes began to dilate and his trousers suddenly became quite tight. Then Draco let out a hacking cough that lasted for two minutes. Harry felt his erection wither away.

"I know. But I just got so bored without you. Don't you want to do something fun? New? Exciting?" Draco attempted to be seductive.

"Yes. I know, let's rest and drink lots of fluids." Harry said hastily.

"What kind of fluids?" Draco leered at him. The come-hither look was somewhat ruined by the snot that was beginning to run from his nose.

Harry grimaced. "Like orange juice."

Draco pouted. This wasn't going at all the way he had planned. "Fine, I'll rest. But if I'm going to bed, you're coming with me."

Harry seemed to be struggling with himself. "See, that would be irresistible, if you weren't all.. drippy…" Harry tapped his nose for emphasis.

Draco quickly wiped at his nose, but immediately bounced back unfazed. He placed his hands on his chest, and let them roam slowly down his body. "Are you saying you don't want to get with _this_. Come on…" Before Harry could protest, Draco broke into another coughing fit.

"Don't take this personally, Draco," Harry tried to wisely choose his words. "But I just can't have sex with a sick person. No matter how… delectable they may look."

"I'm right there with you, Harry." The brunette sighed in relief, before Draco continued. "I wouldn't have sex with a sick person either. That's nauseating. But I'm not sick. Want me to prove it to you?" Draco pushed Harry back into one of the chairs, and crawled onto his lap, ignoring the fact that Harry was attempting to get away. "We are two healthy people, that are in the prime of our lives.

Harry managed to escape. "See, love, I'd like to stay in the prime of my life." Draco raised his hand, formed it into a claw, and made a growling noise. "Oh, okay, now I'll do it." Harry said sarcastically.

"Fine." Draco stalked back to the bedroom.

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose, tiredly. It was going to be a _long_ night.

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"Harry!"

"Yes, sweetie?" Harry swiftly made his way to the bedroom. "Do you need more tissues? Some soup? Tea?" He groaned in exasperation when he walked in.

Draco was splayed on the bed with the sheets overturned. He leered at Harry, and patted the bed. "Calling mediwizard Harry. Calling mediwizard Harry to the bed.

Harry moaned, and not in the way Draco wanted. "Merlin…" He mumbled in frustration, "Love, I thought you were in here sleeping."

"How could I lay here sleeping? Knowing you were in the next room, wearing that sexy outfit."

Harry glanced down at his yellow baggy sweats and bright orange turtleneck sweater. He shrugged. "I was asleep. Draco smiled, and undid his robe. He shivered when the cold air hit his naked body. "Oh, no, Draco, you know what's sexy? Layers. Layers are sexy." Harry reached over, and was rapidly redressing the stubborn blonde. "Blankets and sheets are also sexy. And how could I forget how sexy hot water bottles are?" Harry attempted to shove the hot water bottle into Draco's hand.

"I told you Harry! I'm not sick!" Draco exclaimed. "I want to make you feel, as good as I feel. Ack-Achoo!"

"Please get some rest." Harry begged.

"I said I'm fine. Ack-Achoo!"

When Draco began to cough, Harry had had enough. "You're coughing Draco-"

"No, I'm not, I'm laughing."

"Then you're laughter sounds like a banshee. And what are you even laughing at?"

"… Oh, something I heard earlier…"

"Tell me."

"I… I would, but I don't want to spoil the mood." Draco leaned up, about to kiss him. _Oh, what the hell. One kiss from Draco won't kill me._ Harry opened his mouth, and closed his eyes. "ACHOO!" Harry gagged as he felt the saliva hit his face for the second time that day,

"That's it!" Harry shouted. "You, in the bed now. And I order you to stay there until you feel better." He stomped out of the bedroom, letting the door slam after him.

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"Harry?"

"What did I tell you?" Harry said in exasperation, putting his book down.

"I think I'm sick." Draco plowed on.

"Really? Struck down in the prime of life?"

"Fine, I admit it. I feel terrible." Draco handed him some lotion. "Please put this on me?" He asked pitifully.

"Sur- Oh, no, no, no. You are not getting me to fall for that." Harry folded his

arms in front of his chest.

"But I really need your help-"

"No, no, no, no, no, no."

"Fine, I'll rub it on myself." Draco let his robe fall, and he stood in all his glory. Harry cleared his throat, and attempted to continue his reading. His eyes kept drifting towards the entrancing body, before snapping back to the book. "Oh." Draco moaned, rubbing the lotion slowly on his chest. He let out another breathy groan.

Harry's eye began to twitch. "So…" He had to clear his throat once more when it cracked slightly. "You're erm… Just going to rub it on yourself then?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I erm… uh… er… It's nice…"

"You've got to be joking. This is turning you on?" Draco asked in an incredulous tone.

Yes." Harry whimpered, hanging his flaming head in shame.

"I don't get it. Is it the rubbing or the smell?" Draco looked at the label on the bottle.

"It's all very, very good." Harry had his eyes firmly shut, and his head was turned in any direction, but Draco's. Draco sighed, and pulled his robe back on. He went over to the lounge chair and sat down. "So… uh…" Harry stammered, "You wanna go… erm… make things exciting?"

Draco shot him an disbelieving look. "Now? I'm sick."

"Oh, come on, you big faker. We both know you like to play up the whole being sick thing." Harry was highly considering the idea of begging. Especially when Draco spread his legs wider, and his robe was still untied.

"What about your rule on never having sex with sick people?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, well…" Harry was struggling to come up with a reply that would result in sex that night. "…That was before all the rubbing and moaning action with the lotion."

"Well…" Draco seemed to be pondering his answer. "If you really want to have sex…"

"Okay!" Harry, not even waiting for Draco to finish his reply, ran for the bedroom.

Draco glanced at the lotion bottle. "Worked like a charm." He glanced down at his body. "I've still got it." With a triumphant smirk, Draco also headed for the bedroom.

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~A few hours later~

"I don't feel so good…"

"Thanks, Potter. That's what every man wants to hear after he just had sex with you."

"I think I may have caught something."

"Yeah, well, you better not get me sick."

"……………"

"What, Harry?"

~Fin~

So……. What did you think?????

R&R

XOXO

Sable-eyed-lily


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